There Was A Hole Here, It's Gone Now
by illusioneyes
Summary: What started as a road-trip spirals into a bloody, walking nightmare when Murdoc nearly runs over a girl standing in the road outside of Paleville. Stumbling unaware into Silent Hill, the band members face their demons as the blood-thirsty Order stalks them from the shadows, Dahlia's interest growing in one of the newcomers... (Phase 2 Gorillaz/Silent Hill game-verse crossover)
1. Prologue

"Dullard I swear to Satan, if you don't shut your miserable pie-hole, I'm going to throw you out and run you over, DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

2D shrunk down in his seat, hiding behind his knees. The Grand Am swerved dangerously as Murdoc glared over his shoulder.

"Murdoc, shut up. You're giving me a goddamn migraine," Russel sneered, rubbing his temple under his cap.

Murdoc shifted, gripping the steering wheel tight.

"If 2D hadn't been babbling like the halfwit he is, we wouldn't have missed the turn."

Rain tapped gently against the windshield, mingling with the sound of Noodle smoothing down the crumpled map against her legs.

"We missed a turn by Brahm's," she piped up suddenly. "Murdoc blew through the intersection and took the wrong exit."

Russel's stare burned in Murdoc, making him flinch, his knuckles turning white.

"That was nearly half an hour ago."

"What?" he yelled, banging his hand on the dashboard. "What do you want from me, fatty? I can't see through all this bloody fog! You want to drive?"

"I wanted to stop at the gas station!"

"You want to stop at every gas station!"

Noodle squinted through the fog, straining to read a rusty road sign through the mist.

"We passed Paleville. I think we should turn around," she said, but no one heard her over the shouting match.

She peered back down to the map, grumbling under her breath. 2D rested his head against the glass, fingering the last couple pain pills in his jacket pocket. He fought the urge to down them both; if they were going to be on the road much longer, he'd need them. Lights passed in flashes, dim torches in the foggy night, hopping along the pines like fire. The cool window eased his pounding head.

Murdoc lit up a cigarette, cracking the window slightly to the smoke flew out into the night air to mingle with the mist. He blew out a ring, glancing up to the rear-view mirror. He and Russel had finally stopped bickering, and he was genuinely worried about being lost. He had lost his way many times in the States, but never in Maine, and never in such bad weather. He mulled over pulling off to the side of the road and waiting out the fog, but he couldn't bear the idea of being trapped in the car with his band-mates for Satan-knew how long. He thought about turning around, but he had to admit, he wasn't really sure where they'd come from at that point, he'd made so many turns and back-tracks.

"Let's go back to Brahm's," Noodle said, earning a glare from Murdoc.

She glared right back. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, then sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, alrigh'."

He slowed down, making a U-turn in the middle of the empty highway, gassing it back the way they had come.

"But don't go asking me for money for candy or—"

"MURDOC!"

He swerved right, nearly swallowing his cigarette as he frantically jerked the steering wheel. A girl stood, dripping wet, in the middle of the road. The car skidded, steam rising from its wake, tail-spinning on the wet pavement. Murdoc heard a scream, and he wasn't sure if it was him or one of the others, but he saw the guard rail coming closer.

And then nothing.


	2. Chapter 1

Light.

Ding… ding…

Fog.

Pain.

Ding… ding… ding…

Murdoc's eyes struggled open against his daze, head rolling on the bloody steering wheel. His vision crossed, blinding light peering in through his lids painfully as he tried desperately to make himself sit up. A loud groan came out of him as he finally managed to lift his head, the unbearable brightness settling down to a cloudy drear as he blinked heavily.

Pain washed over him in throbbing waves as he pawed for the door handle, blood stinging his eyes. His hands fumbled against the metal, finally throwing the door open. He coughed, touching his head gently. Dried and fresh blood came off on his palm. He stared down at it, unable to register that it was coming from him.

With a strong shove, he threw himself from the car, crawling on his hands and knees out onto the pavement. He smacked his lips, the taste of metal filling his mouth. He looked up. It was day. His eyes narrowed. Through the glowing fog he saw the car behind him, the hood driven into the guard rail like a wedge. A small chuckle snorted out of his bleeding nose. That long hood was probably the only reason he was still alive.

He collapsed backwards onto the rain-soaked road, groaning.

"Guys…" he called in a soft, hoarse voice. He licked his cracked lips. "Russ…"

There was no answer. He rolled onto his front, pushing himself up to look into the Grand Am's front seat—empty. He blinked in confusion; Russel was gone. The door was thrown open, the steady 'ding…ding…ding' of the door-ajar-alert the only sound besides his own heavy breathing. But the drummer was nowhere in sight.

"2D… Noods…"

He heaved himself upwards against the door, peering into the backseat—empty. Murdoc's heart banged relentlessly against his ribs. He scrambled along the side of the car, stumbling over his numb feet to the passenger side.

A trail of blood led away from the open door.

The red stain went from the seat down the road, disappearing into the fog. It was a lot of blood. Murdoc swayed against the car, unable to breathe.

"R-Russ!" he called out, his throat burning, the taste of blood renewed in his mouth. "Noods! 'D! Anybody?!"

He fumbled for his pocket, nearly dropping his phone as he called 2D. It went straight to voicemail. Growling, he turned around frantically, listening to 2D prattle on about reaching him on his landline.

"Dullard! Where the hell are you?!" He coughed violently. "Did you… did you ditch me here?! I can't remember… what happened. If you and Russ left me here, I'll wring your goddamn necks! If yer in the hospital… then… then why didn't they get me…"

He stared off into the fog, his heart racing as he stared at the blood.

"Call me. NOW."

Murdoc hurried to the shut the car doors, his eyes locked on the red trail. The dinging stopped. Every fiber of his body told him to get in the car and try to drive back to Brahms, but he couldn't make himself get in. He stumbled down the road, clutching his phone like a cross, eyes locked on the blood. He went to dial Russel—voicemail. He hung up, panic setting in. He'd be damned if a member of his band was dead in a ditch somewhere; he wouldn't let them get off so easy. His legs shook.

"Tusspot!" he yelled out, his voice echoing along the road. "Russ!"

The closeness of the fog made him shiver—it was so quiet. He raced to dial Noodle's number.

"Pick up," he pleaded. "Pick… pick up."

It rang. It rang twice. He froze—a soft melody played quietly through the fog. He turned, doubling back away from the blood, trying desperately to tell where it was coming from. The melody grew louder the closer he grew to the car, until he could hear it from under the Grand Am. He bent down, peering underneath.

There, Noodle lay in a crumpled heap between the rear wheels, unconscious. He reached out, grabbing the girl by the shoulder.

"Noods! Noodle, wake up!"

Cursing, he pulled her out from under the car, dragging her into his lap. Her hair was bloody, scrapes and bruises riddled her arms and legs. He shook her.

"Hey! Hey! Nood, get up! Come on!"

Her head rolled back against his arm, her mouth open. A cold shock ran through him.

Murdoc leaned down, pressing an ear to her scrawny chest. A tiny breath shuddered through her and he let out a long groan of relief; she wasn't dead. He tried everything to wake her up, smacked her cheeks, shook her, screamed, pinched, but she was out cold.

He dialed 911, muttering a dark prayer under his breath. Static spilled out from the receiver.

"Fuck," he snarled, tucking the phone back into his jacket.

Holding Noodle, he glanced to the blood trail, then up to a rusty road sign.

'ASHVILLE – 25 MILES'

'BRAHAM'S – 13 MILES'

'PALEVILLE – 3 MILES'

'SOUTH VALE – 2 MILES'

Tightening his grip on her arm, he pulled Noodle's limp body onto his shoulders, struggling to stand with her draped over his back. He wrapped his arms around her legs, nearly falling backwards under her weight, her head falling slack against him. He snarled—she'd put on weight since he last gave her a piggy-back ride. Then again, he snorted, she was eleven back then and much shorter.

He took one shaky step, then another, until he was able to keep his balance.

"Alright," he muttered. "Okay. You can do this Muds. Walk in the park. Only two fucking miles, not a goddamn problem."

He glanced back at the smashed-in car, eaten by the fog as he disappeared into the mist. He kept looking back until it was a vague black shape in the distance. He breathed in deep through his nose.

"2D!" he called out, pulling Noodle higher onto his back. "Russ!"

It was so quiet—not even the sound of birds or car on the road, or… anything. Murdoc tried to hurry along faster, gripping Noodle's legs tight to keep her from slipping. The numbness in his body began to ebb away with each step, and pain soon took control of every limb, throbbing relentlessly.

His ribs ached, and as he continued on shaky legs, he realized a sharp, nagging pain in his left ankle. He began to limp. His face and neck hurt the most, and as Noodle weighed down on his spine, the pain grew. He grunted under the strain, shifting her to keep the pressure off of the back of his neck.

With every half-step, his left foot cramping under the twisted muscles, he wanted to drop her, but he held tight, his sharp teeth sinking hard into his cut lip.

He squinted; a dark figure moved in the distance. Leaning to one side, he cleared his throat.

"Russ?"

No, the figure was too gaunt, moving through the mist in an elusive shadow.

"Tusspot! Get over here! I think Noodle's hurt I can't keep—are you listening you little shit?! Get over here!"

The figure waivered, hesitating, then retreated through the fog until it faded away.

"H-hey! What the hell are you doing?! Get back here!"

He tried to run, faltering on his bad ankle. He nearly dropped Noodle as he galloped into the thick mist, the _clack, clack_ of his boots echoing in the road as he tried desperately to keep up. But the figure was gone. He panted hard, his lungs aching against his bruised ribs, clenching down hard in a vice grip so that his breaths were shallow and short.

He fell to his knees, grinding his jeans into the pavement so roughly that he felt his skin rub raw underneath. Murdoc gasped for breath, glancing back up into the fog. There was the tall shadow, lingering just out of sight, wavering.

"2…D, get… Noodle!" he called out, sucking in air through his broken nose.

A hiss of breath in his ear nearly caused him to piss himself. Noodle's head moved slightly. Her jaw and cheek wriggled against his shoulder, her mouth getting close to his ear.

"Shit, Noodle, I thought you were a goner. Sweet Satan, you really had me going, you little—"

"Don't… go to it…" she breathed in a whisper. "Don't… look at it…"

His temporary smirk faded into an open-mouthed stare. His eyes slid over to the figure, still hovering in the fog, rocking from side to side.

"Noodle…" he said in a low voice.

Her chest rose and fell with a strangled noise, wheezing into his ear.

"Killer…"

Color drained from his face. He glanced down under his knees—the bloody trail he'd nearly forgotten smeared to a sudden end below him. The figure stared.

Trembling, he got to his feet, stepping backwards as silently as he possibly could, ignoring the stinging pain of his ankle.

"Can't go back," Noodle managed, coughing quietly. "Tried… Road… is gone"

"What the bloody hell do you want me to do?" he whispered, still backing away.

The figure slunk forward, gaining a step for each he took back. His body shook with chilling, mind-numbing fear.

"Run."


End file.
